The Slender Games
by maxridelovr998
Summary: Katniss and Peeta are thrown into the 74th annual Hunger Games but this time round someone or something is involved hunting and stalking them down preying on them while they're most vunerable tired and weak...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story also some story contents may run along the same lines as the original book starting off page 178 in the Hunger Games

The Slender Games

Chapter 1.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

Sixty seconds. That's how long we're required to stand on our metal circles before the sound of a gong releases us. Step off before the minute is up, and landmines blow your legs off. Sixty seconds to take in the ring of tributes all equidistant from the Cornucopia. A large block that looks almost like a house but has only white stained tiles. Out the front of the Cornucopia, food, containers of water, weapons, medicine, garments, fire starters. Strewn around the Cornucopia are other supplies, their value decreasing the further they are away from the horn. For instance, only a few steps from my feet lies a meter of square of plastic. Certainly it could be of some use in a downpour. But there in the mouth, I can see a tent pack that would protect me from almost any sort of weather. If I had the guts to go in and fight for it against the other twenty- three tributes. Which I have been instructed not to do. We're on a flat, open stretch of ground. We're on a flat, open stretch of ground. A small plain of hard-packed dirt. Behind the tributes across from me, I can see spare piney woods, with the dirt, rolling out into a path curved, unable to see what lies ahead. To my left, there is around four yellow-brown, rusted tankers, Behind them more tall pines. To my right is the Cornucopia and Ahead is straight barred, more pines. This is where Haymitch would want me to go. Immediately.  
I hear his Instructions in my head. "Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water. "  
But it's tempting so tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there for me. And I know that if I don't get it, someone else will. That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a bow, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. _That's mine, _I think. It's _meant for me. _  
I'm fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school, although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-metre length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is, how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I've scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reached the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but says there's a dozen; at that close range, they could take down me with spears and clubs. Or their own powerful fists.  
Still I won't be the only target. I'm betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl, even ones who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.  
Haymitch has never seen me run. Maybe if he had he'd tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since that's the weapon that might be my salvation. And I only see one bow in the whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and I'll have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the surrounding forests but towards the pile, towards the bow. When I suddenly notice Peeta. He's about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance; still, I can tell he's looking at me, and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun's in my eyes, and while I'm puzzling over it the gong rings out.  
And I've missed it! I've missed my chance! Because those extra couple of seconds I've lost by not being ready are enough to change my mind about going in. My feet shuffle for a moment, confused at the direction my brain wants to take, and then I lunge forward, scoop up the sheet of plastic and loaf of bread. The pickings are so small and I'm so angry with Peeta for distracting me that I sprint in twenty metres to retrieve a bright orange backpack that could hold anything, because I can't stand leaving with virtually nothing. A boy from district 9, reaches the pack at the same time as I do and for a brief time we grapple for it and then he coughs splattering my face with blood. I stagger back, repulsed by the warm, sticky spray. Then the boy slips to the ground. That's when I see a knife in his back. Already other tributes have reached the Cornucopia and are spreading out to attack. Yes, the girl from district 2, ten metres away, running towards me, one hand clutching a half-dozen knives I've seen her throw in training. She never misses. And I'm her next target.  
All the general fear I've been feeling condenses into an immediate fear of this girl, this predator who might kill me in seconds. Adrenaline shoots through me and I sling my pack over one shoulder and run full-speed for the woods. I can hear the blade whistling towards me and reflectively hike the pack up to protect my head. The blade lodges in the pack. Both straps are on my shoulders now, I make for the trees. Somehow I know the girl will not pursue me. That she'll draw back into the Cornucopia before all the good stuff is gone. A grin spreads across my face. _Thanks for the knife_ I think.

End of Chapter

Notes:

So basically what I've done here is taken chapter 11 from the hunger games and have started to slightly change the plotline, it goes along it pretty smoothly here of course it's going to take some time to finish this story chapter 11 I have gotten nowhere near finishing, this fanfic. is going to be about half the size of the regular book or a quarter hopefully. As the story goes on the plotline will twist and change but to keep the same personality of Katniss I needed to start the story with only minor changes, of course I'm not going to keep this up for the whole story but also it is important to know to understand this story what slender is, if you want to keep reading but you don't understand or know who and what slender is than just type in slender into Google or YouTube and maybe view someone playing the game (yes slender is a computer game) and hopefully you will understand better. You defiantly don't have to play to understand the whole eight pages thing otherwise this story is going to be completely bonkers to you. Additionally also so people aren't left to confused the Cornucopia is the house or toilet block in the slender game. But more will be revealed later, I hope you enjoyed and please review if you wish…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story also some story contents may run along the same lines as the original book starting off page 178 in the Hunger Games

The Slender Games

Chapter 2.

At the edge of the woods I turn for one instant to survey the field. About a dozen or so tributes are hacking away at one another smashing each other into the walls of the house Several are already dead on the ground. Those who have taken flight are disappearing into the trees or down the little paths behind me. I continue running until the woods have hidden me from the other tributes, then slow into a steady jog that I think I can maintain for a while. For the next few hours I alternate between jogging and walking, putting as much distance as I can between myself and my competitors, I lost my bread during the struggle with the boy from district 9, but managed to stuff my plastic in my sleeve, so I walk I fold it neatly and tuck it into a pocket. I also free the knife – it's a fine one with a long sharp blade, serrated near the handle, which will make it handy for sawing through things – and slide it into my belt. I don't dare stop to examine the contents of the pack yet. I just keep moving, pausing only to check for pursuers.  
I can go for a long time. I know that from my days in the woods. But I will need water. That was haymitch's second instruction, and since I sort of botched the first, I keep a sharp eye out for any sign of it. No luck.  
The woods begin to evolve, and the sun is slowly going down, I've stumbled along a wide open barren path, I know I shouldn't be here, this place is open for traps. In the centre of this path is a tall tree, kind of scary looking, the branches, pointing out at the top, I mix into the woods, I want to get to the other side, but doing so I will risk my life, and that's not something I'm willing to do. At one point I hear a noise and pull my knife, thinking I may have to defend myself, but I've only startled a rabbit. "Good to see you," I whisper. If there's one rabbit, there could be hundreds just waiting to be snared.  
The grounds are flat and bear nothing but pines, so I keep walking it's hard to nowhere you are going, I want to be high like in the hills in district 12, where I can see my enemies approaching. But I have no choice. There are no hills here. It's arriving to noon now, I know what to do, I walk along in the dense woods, by the path but further away enough that any enemies on the path can't see me. One of the heaviest days of betting is the opening, when the initial casualties come in. But that can't compare to what happens as the field shrinks to a handful of players.  
It's late afternoon when I begin to hear the cannons. Each shot represents a dead tribute. The fighting must have finally stopped at the Cornucopia. They never collect the bloodbath bodies until the killers dispersed. On the opening day, they don't even fire the cannons until the initial fighting's over because it's too hard to keep track of the fatalities. I allow myself to pause, panting, as I count the shots. One. . . two . . . three . . . on and on until they reach eleven. Eleven dead in all. Thirteen left to play. My fingernails scrape at the dried blood the boy from district 9 coughed into my face. He's gone, certainly. I wonder about Peeta. Has he lasted through the day? I'll know in a few hours. When they project the dead images into the sky for the rest of us to see.  
All of a sudden I'm overwhelmed by the thought that Peeta may already be lost, bled white, collected, and in the process of being transported back to the Capitol to be cleaned up, re-dressed, and shipped in a simple wooden box back to district 12. No longer here. Heading home. I try hard to remember if I saw him once the action started. But the last image I can conjure up is Peeta shaking his head as the gong rand out. Maybe it's better, if he's gone already. He had no confidence he could win. And I will not end up with the unpleasant task of killing him. Maybe it's better if he's out of this for good.  
I slump down next to my pack, exhausted. I need to go through it anyway before night falls. See what I have to work with. As I unhook the straps, I can feel it's sturdily made, although a rather unfortunate colour. This orange will practically glow in the dark. I make a mental note to camouflage it first thing tomorrow. I flip open the flap. What I want most, right at this moment is water. Haymitch directive to immediately find water was not arbitrary. I won't last long without it. For a few days, I'll be able to function with unpleasant symptoms of dehydration, but after that I'll deteriorate into helplessness and be dead in a week, tops. I carefully lay out the provisions. One thin black sleeping bag that reflects body heat. A pack of crackers. A pack of dried beef strips. A bottle of iodine. A box of wooden matches. A small coil of wire. A pair of sunglasses. A map And a two-litre plastic bottle with a cap for carrying water that's bone dry. No water. How hard would it have been for them to fill up the bottle? I become aware of the dryness in my throat and mouth, the cracks in my lips, I've been moving all day long. It's been hot and I've sweated a lot. I do this at home, but there are always streams to drink from, or snow to melt if it should come to it. I need to find a source of water, if I don't I'm going to be the one sent back to district 12. Not as a winner. Dead. I start to panic, then I remember the rabbit, it needs to drink, too. Where? I stuff my contents into my pack, all except for my map. On the back is scrawled, collect all eight pages... I don't understand, so I flip the map over its detailed with a forest I can tell the Cornucopia is in the centre, along with the tankers I saw earlier, paths come out of the main arena. But we're enclosed in by a tall fence. I should stay away from there. Easy to be trapped along the lines of the fence, easy to be cornered. It's almost twilight; night animals are starting to come out now and the occasional hoot or howl can be heard. I'm hungry, but I refuse to eat into my precious store of crackers and beef this early. So I hack at a piece of bark from the tree, and starting scraping at the inner softer bark, after eating a week of the finest food in the world, it's hard to choke down, but I'll manage. Before I get ready to bunker down, I set up a quick simple snare and move on for another five minutes before choosing my tree. I scale up tree, bark occasionally scratching and opening long marks on my flesh, and finally, I'm ready to fall asleep I'm up high and I hope for the best no one else chooses the same tree to sleep in. I stick to the stronger branch close to the trunk and strap my sleeping bag around its thick branch securing myself. I place my backpack in the foot of the bag and slide in after it. Now if I roll over in my sleep at least I won't go crashing to the ground. I'm small enough to tuck the top of the bag over my head, but I put on mu hood as well. As night falls, the air is cooling quickly. Despite the risk I tool in getting the bag, I know it was the right choice. There would be other tributes whose main concern is preserving their body heat, now at least I'll be able to get a couple hours of sleep, if only I wasn't so thirsty, as I drift off to sleep someone screams and I can hear them crashing through the woods I wonder who they're pursuers are, but don't dare to peak. The tribute scream below me, but I don't hear other voices. The boom of the cannon is heard, and I wonder. . . What killed that girl?

Notes:

Next chapter I will write either later today or early tomorrow I'm on holidays so I have heaps of time to write my chapters and stuff YAY! Tell me below in the reviews we're you want Katniss to go next? She needs a source of water and I haven't exactly sorted out that problem places I won't allow her to go includes the arena – (house and tankers) and the big rocks. So the places that are left include cutted woods, tunnel, silo, cross walls, single car and the double cars. Where should she go?


End file.
